


Brightest at the End

by mrs_d



Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Angst, Episode: s04e10 Who's Da New King of Hell, F/M, Introspection, Missing Scene, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-30
Updated: 2020-05-30
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:34:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24458287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mrs_d/pseuds/mrs_d
Summary: Lucifer, alone on the balcony.
Relationships: Chloe Decker/Lucifer Morningstar
Comments: 14
Kudos: 71





	Brightest at the End

**Author's Note:**

> Stay home, save lives (read fanfic)! Come find me on [Tumblr](http://mrsd-writes.tumblr.com), [Twitter](https://twitter.com/mrsd_writes), and [Dreamwidth](https://mrs-d.dreamwidth.org/) if you want to hang out on the Internet.
> 
> Title from [The End by Diane Birch.](https://youtu.be/_Y3PJTPDz7k?t=32)
> 
> (P.S. the word count was sort of -- but not really -- an accident.)

There are so many things that Lucifer is angry with his father about, but this world, with all its flaws and frailties, is not one of them. 

The sun is not up yet. This is the closest his city comes to quiet, in the hour or so before dawn. Lucifer wishes he could wait a little longer, until the horizon turns gold. It is a breathtaking sight — the permanently lit skyscraper windows look like they’re open to the sunrise, like even steel and concrete cannot help but rejoice in giving light.

There was a time, perhaps, when he was like that, too. 

He draws on his cigarette. It is likely his last — at least for a good long while. He enjoys it. He is glad, abstractly, that the Detective is nearby; the nicotine has more of an effect when she is. It lifts his head, makes him faintly dizzy on the inhale, and settles his nerves on the exhale. It makes him feel almost ready for what’s coming next.

He should be angry. Furious that this chain of events — that his entire path since Chloe entered his life — has manipulated him into choosing to do his father’s will. 

Part of him balks at that word. _Choosing._ As if there was ever a choice. His father’s plan has threatened the one thing that Lucifer will begrudgingly admit he has in common with the old man: he loves this place, and these people. He’ll give up everything to protect them. Especially since no one else seems up to the task. 

He _is_ angry. Livid, in fact. Soon he’ll have to face it. But for now the rage is quiet, quiet like his city is quiet; it is a temporary respite at best. When he— when this is settled, he’ll let himself feel it. He’ll scream where no one is likely to notice one more voice in anguish. Where Chloe cannot hear him. 

Is this what submission feels like, he wonders.

He shouldn’t wait any longer. It’s already been too long, Below, since he banished the demons from this plane. Mutterings of revolt have no doubt already started, and it won’t be long until someone tries to succeed where the previous group failed. Unless there is a show of force, the rebels won’t rest. 

His mouth twists at the irony, that he, who once challenged the very throne of Heaven, now makes the choice — such as it is — to rule. To suppress those who challenge him.

 _Are You happy now?_ he’s tempted to ask. _Have You proved Your point?_

Where will the demons go next, he wonders. Not here, not now they know that LA is where their king absconded to. He worries about the damage they could do before he could track them down.

He shouldn’t wait any longer, but he will. Just another moment. As soon as he sees it, he’ll say what he has to say to the Detective, and then he’ll go. 

He finishes his cigarette, blows the last mouthful of smoke out over his city in a smooth, unbroken line. He thinks again about speaking to his father. 

_Is it gratifying to know that if You pushed hard enough, eventually even I would break?_

There it is at last. The base of the sky is finally lightening from deep navy into a watery blue, and, there, in the east, his star that isn’t a star at all catches the sunlight and burns. It is the brightest object in the sky— for a moment, anyway. 

He smiles at it. It is his, and it has never lost its beauty or its brilliance. And, like him, it is always and forever falling.

He hears footsteps behind him. Chloe’s been very patient. He can put it off no longer. 

He watches the morning star’s light begin to dim as the sun asserts its dominance, painting the cloud edges pink and gold. He raises his eyes at last and sends one thought in his father’s direction.

_You win._


End file.
